


Quarantine Silver Linings

by twoshipsinthenight



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: COVID-19, Clueless Hockey Men, Dallas Stars, Dallas Stars Ensemble - Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Hockey boys "helping", Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Riggy Proves He’s Boyfriend Material, quarantining together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28883781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoshipsinthenight/pseuds/twoshipsinthenight
Summary: Riggy knows what he wants and he’s willing to do what it takes. Even if that means growing up and facing the pressure of big responsibilities.Miro isn’t expecting this, and when an unexpected quarantine places him at a crossroads, he has to decide - what is he willing to risk?
Relationships: Miro Heiskanen/Jamie Oleksiak
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

Miro jolts awake, feeling disoriented for a split second, until he remembers he’s on a plane. He turns his head, rubbing at the back of his neck and wincing. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep like that, all jammed against the little plane window.

He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and watches discreetly as his row mate carefully folds her empty pretzel bag into a neat little square, tucking it under the edge of her laptop, her eyes never leaving the screen. He thinks she’s writing some sort of novel, but he hasn't actually seen anything on her screen. She’s got one of those privacy screen covers, and it completely muddles his view. But she has literally been typing ever since they reached cruising altitude, and every time he wakes up from his brief naps she’s still at it. So yeah, maybe a novel?

Miro would ask the lady, but he’s actually quite happy not to talk to anyone. Nobody has recognized him so far since he switched planes in Frankfurt, and he’s enjoying being ignored whenever he has the chance these days. So he turns his attention back to the mindless little game on his tablet, starting back in where he left off.

When they land, everything seems too bright and loud, the same way it is every time he comes back to Dallas. It’s incredibly sunny, and compared to the rainy, cloudy, and misty gray that is Finland at this time of year, it seems almost hot. It’s bizarre, since it is still the middle of winter, and Christmas was just a couple days ago. They’d actually had snow back home on Christmas this year.

Miro gets distracted watching a little pomeranian shake herself excitedly as she is let out of her carrier, her owner cooing and trying to snap the leash onto her tiny collar.

“Hold still Mina! Manners!” The large man scolds gently, his huge hands a bit too clumsy to finesse the clasp as the dog wiggles and yips, licking at the air, clearly stir-crazy from the long flight.

Miro smiles inwardly, a little sad at the reminder of Max and Leo, whom he’d left in Finland with his housemate. It wouldn’t have been fair to them to have been left alone or just with a dog sitter every time he traveled for games, especially not this season. He’d be on the road more than he’d be home with the incredibly condensed schedule this year.

“Need a hand?” Miro stoops down to let Mina sniff and then lick at his fingers, her nose barely as big as the tip of his pinky. He glances up at the man, who is still holding the leash but looks defeated.

“Yeah, actually. Could you? My hands are not good for this - arthritis.” He makes a woeful face and holds up one hand. Now that Miro is looking for it, he can see that his knuckles are swollen and knobbly, and it seems like he has a slight tremble as well.

“No problem. I have two little ones just like her at home.” Mina’s owner drops the end of the leash in Miro’s outstretched palm, and in no time Miro has it clipped onto the pink, rhinestone-studded collar at the little dog’s throat. He scratches her a couple times on her forehead for her good behavior, and then gets up from where he was crouched.

“Thanks so much. Usually my husband handles her, but he couldn’t travel with me this holiday. He’s a nurse, and the hospital he’s at needed him too badly; couldn’t afford to let him have a week off right now.”

“Ah. Well, he’s a hero,” Miro smiles at the man, his heart warming at the look of pride that spreads across his face. “And Mina is a great little girl. Happy to help.”

“You’re giving me renewed faith in young people these days, young man. So polite. Happy New Year to you!”

Miro waves as Mina and her owner head towards the pet stop station across the lobby, and then starts himself down the long hallway to the baggage claim area.

He’s still thinking vaguely about Mina as he rolls his baggage cart out to the arrivals pick-up area, but every thought flees his brain as he sees who is waiting for him. 

“Riggy!?” Miro almost stutters, coming to an abrupt halt as he takes in the tall, unmistakable figure of his defense partner, leaning against an unfamiliar blue SUV. He’s wearing a ball cap turned backwards, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, a short sleeved shirt stretched tight over his massive chest. Miro blinks. Fuck, his biceps look huge. Has he just forgotten how big Riggy is? It’s only been a few months since he saw him in person.

“Hey, man!” Riggy jogs up to him, wrapping him in a quick hug. He steps back, looking furtively around the airport, but no one is paying them any mind. He looks back at Miro, clearly beaming hugely under his mask, his eyes all crinkled at the corners in a way that makes Miro beam right back at him, shock almost wiped away by the happiness at seeing his teammate. But not entirely.

“What are you - I thought Roope - Roope was supposed to pick me up?”

“Yeah, I asked him if I could surprise you! Well and he brought up that you were flying in and needed a ride, and said Gury is flying in a few hours behind you and asked him for a ride too.”

“So when I texted him a few minutes ago that I had my bags and would see him in a minute…?” 

“Uh yeah he texted me that, so I knew to come over from short-term parking.”

Miro shakes his head, amused. They stand there for a few seconds, just smiling at each other, until Riggy suddenly seems to realize he’s just standing there and jumps forward, putting a hand on the handle of Miro’s baggage cart. 

“C’mon, let’s get this loaded. How was the flight?”

They catch up as Riggy drives them out of the convoluted Dallas airport, his big hands tapping a complicated rhythm on the steering wheel along with the low country music playing in the background. He’d offered to let Miro plug in his phone and pick the music, but Miro was quite content to let Riggy be the DJ. He’d realized how into music Riggy is when they’d spent nearly three months living together with the rest of their teammates in the NHL bubble over the summer.

Riggy tells Miro about how he got the SUV a few weeks ago, “figured it was time I had a better setup for hauling around teammates and all our shit. The truck is great, but this is a lot more comfortable.”

Miro has to agree. He’s been in Riggy’s truck a couple times, both coming after he’d made the mistake of getting a ride with Roope and then being abandoned when Roope decided to make further plans without him. Riggy’s always been happy to offer him a ride if he needs one, but his truck was clearly an extension of his bachelor pad life. It was nice enough, just a bit well-worn and messy inside. Miro’d even discovered an old pizza box with one lonely, slightly fuzzy slice remaining in it the last time he’d caught a ride. Riggy had blushed and stammered that it’d been a long week when he saw Miro having to scoot the box aside so he could sling his bag in the back seat. It had been endearing, and Miro really doesn’t care about a little mess or funky smell - he is a hockey player after all. But Riggy’s new car is really a huge step up, and Miro can’t help but be a little impressed as he takes in the luxurious interior and the obvious care he’s taking to keep it clean.

Riggy turns up the music as one of his favorite songs comes on the playlist, and Miro listens to him sing softly along with the chorus. He glances over at Miro and smiles a couple of times, and Miro finds himself smiling softly back. It’s unexpectedly cozy, and he can feel himself really relaxing for the first time since he’d boarded his flight the day before. It’s really, really good to be back with the guys.


	2. Chapter 2

The first few days of training camp are awesome. Miro loves hockey, and he misses it terribly when the season is over. Nearly winning the Stanley Cup over the summer has clearly lit a flame under everyone’s ass, and the energy is nearly palpable from their very first training session. 

Miro and Riggy fall right back into an easy rhythm as soon as they step onto the ice together. It’s obvious how much more in sync they are compared to last training camp, when they still thought it would be Johns with Miro, and not Riggy. Miro can barely imagine anyone else being his regular partner now, after what they all went through in the bubble. It feels like he and Rig have been playing almost exclusively with each other for years, not just months.

Bones clearly sees it; or had already seen it during his video review over the break. He never suggests splitting them up, and Miro can see that it’s a big weight lifted off of Jamie. He really starts to look confident when it’s the third day of camp and Bones is trying yet more line combinations with just about everyone on the team, but leaving the two of them together. In fact, Bones seems to be turning to them to run drills first more times than not, and then instructing the less experienced defensemen to follow their lead.

Riggy is really starting to take his leadership role on the team to heart this year. He confided in Miro during their carpool back to Miro’s apartment, after the first day of camp, that Bones “told me he expects a lot from me this year - said I’ve really earned my place on the top-four, with you as my partner, and he expects me to mentor the new guys and set an example. Said he knows a lot of them are looking at how I’d had to really fight to earn a permanent place on the team, and want to uh, follow in my footsteps and all that.”

It’s been easier to just ride in with Riggy in the mornings for camp, since he’s offered, and keeps offering, pointing out that he has to drive by Miro’s apartment to get to the practice rink anyways. Miro kinda hates adjusting to getting around Dallas when he comes back to the States, so he’s more than happy to take the excuse not to have to drive more than absolutely necessary. Drivers in Dallas can be unpredictably irrational and hot-tempered, and Miro has had several unpleasant experiences with being screamed at after committing some unknown but apparently tragic faux-pas on the road. 

Riggy, on the other hand, seems completely unshakeable by the occasional idiot with road rage. He even waved, genuinely smiling, at someone who’d made a very rude hand gesture as they sped by, and just blithely continued his conversation with Miro as if he hadn’t even registered the intended insult. It’s all like, super capable and yeah, pretty fucking sexy, if Miro is being completely honest with himself.

Miro probably shouldn’t think that way about a teammate. He knows it’s a dumb move, letting himself look when he doesn’t think anyone else is - watching the way Riggy confidently directs a teammate on the ice, how the rookies are all coming to him for advice, how he taps Miro on the helmet after every new drill when they master it, pride in his eyes and an easy intimacy in his low voice as they talk on the bench. Miro can’t remember ever talking quite this much to Riggy, and he’s taken aback at how much he loves it. Riggy is surprisingly funny, and he’s truly a gentle giant, never getting too off his balance, always calm and kind even when he’s struggling with a drill or critiquing yet another slightly clueless rookie.

So, it isn’t very kind of Miro to be taking advantage of Riggy’s good-natured charm and developing a bit of a crush on him. He knows that Riggy is just being himself, it’s not like he’s flirting or going out of his way to spend time with Miro. He’s clearly trying to really step up his role on the team this year, and if Miro is secretly _really_ enjoying the extra attention and time with Riggy, he should definitely continue to just keep _that_ part a secret.

Miro makes it a point to avoid showering or even undressing at the same time as Riggy, which is easy since he often stays after practice to get a few minutes of extra work on one aspect of his game or another. Usually by the time he’s coming in off the ice, Riggy is almost dressed and talking with a few of the guys. He’ll wait in his car for Miro, which Miro quietly prefers because it means that none of the guys realize that they are driving in together every day. He’s not completely sure why it should matter, but he feels like he wants to keep that fact just between the two of them for as long as he can manage it. He doesn’t want anyone to say something about it and make Riggy realize that he doesn’t actually need to drive Miro everyday. 

“Hey, so no practice tomorrow,” Riggy says as Miro slides into his passenger seat, shutting the door firmly against the Dallas wind whipping strands of his hair into his eyes. Miro pushes a hand through his hair, smoothing it back off his face as best he can, before turning to Riggy. Riggy is glancing over at him, a slight smile on his face as he puts the car into reverse and pulls out of the parking space.

“Yep. You got any plans?”

Riggy shakes his head, letting a few cars pass as he merges onto the highway onramp, accelerating up to the speed of traffic before glancing over at Miro again.

“Nah. Just chillin’ at home. Hey, but do you want to hang out for a bit tonight? I gotta go home and take a quick nap, but I could pick up some food on the way back and we could play ‘chel?”

Miro feels the invitation like a little explosion of warmth in his belly. He’s sure he’s grinning too widely for a simple friendly hangout to play videogames and eat cheap take-out, but he feels almost out of breath as he tells Riggy that would be great. His heart is beating a little faster than normal too, and he hopes Riggy doesn’t notice anything unusual as they near Miro’s apartment.

“Ok, well, sweet, I’ll text you when I’m heading back.” Riggy hauls Miro’s bag up to the front seat and hands it out the door to him, grinning happily in that way that crinkles his eyes and makes Miro’s mouth go a bit dry. Miro just nods, stepping back and shutting the door, giving a little wave as Riggy pulls away from the curb.

Thankfully, Miro’s apartment hasn’t had time to get dirty, especially since he’s paying a housekeeper to come by once a week and tidy up. He considers changing his sheets before taking his nap, and then wonders why he’s even worrying about that. It’s not as if Riggy is going to be in his bed, after all. That thought sticks in his head as he strips down to just his boxers, and he guiltily tries to push it away, feeling his dick wanting to get interested in that line of thought.

“No.” Miro scolds himself, voice loud in the silent bedroom. “You will not jerk off to your nice teammate, who is just trying to be a good liney and like, put effort into bonding and chemistry and stuff.” He groans, realizing that that’s not actually helping him to not want to think about Jamie in bed with him, his bulk, and strong arms, and sweet smile as he stares into Miro’s eyes…

“Nope, no, no.” Miro shakes his head, grabbing for his phone and switching on his alarm, set to wake him up after sensing one full cycle of REM sleep. He runs through drills in his head, using his years of practicing visualization to keep his focus away from his unfairly attractive teammate and finally feels himself getting sleepy, his body growing heavy and his breathing slow.

When Miro wakes up, it’s not only to his alarm, but also the quiet chime of a text message. 

_Riggy, 2:50 pm: I’m up and omw, gonna just stop and pick up food, b there in 20_

_Riggy, 3:02 pm: Parked, buz me up in a minute?_

Miro glances at the time. That last text was just sent a minute ago, so he quickly types back a, _just a sec_ and scrambles to pull on some clothes.

When he opens the door to Riggy standing there, huge and comfortable looking in shorts and a sweatshirt, one hand holding a large plastic bag and the other holding a drink tray with two coffee cups in it, Miro just looks for a second. His eyes rake down Riggy’s chest before snapping up to his face. He shakes his head, scrubbing his face quickly with a hand.

“Sorry, I just woke up.”

“Aw shit man, sorry to wake you! I should’ve come later.”

Miro smiles at Riggy, stepping aside so the larger man can squeeze past him in the narrow entryway before shutting the door firmly behind him. 

“Nah, you’re good. I was going to get up now anyways. Gotta be able to sleep tonight.”

Riggy nods, heading towards the kitchen table to set the food down. He picks up one of the coffee cups and turns towards Miro, pressing the cup into his hands and resting his other hand lightly on Miro’s shoulder for a moment. 

“Well, luckily I brought matcha. No, no need to thank me, it was for purely selfish reasons. Can’t have you sleepy for our ‘chel tournament after all.”

Miro rolls his eyes at Riggy, but hides his smile by taking a big sip of the latte. He ‘mmms’ with appreciation, closing his eyes briefly in pleasure. When he opens them, Riggy is staring at him, his own cup forgotten in one hand. Miro lifts his eyebrows in question, and Riggy seems to snap out of it, giving him a quick smile and turning back to the table.

Miro is just expecting some typical meal-plan standard fare, like chicken and pasta. So when Riggy starts pulling out fancy little cases of what looks like really nice sushi rolls and sashimi and little side dishes, Miro can’t help the noise of surprise he makes.

“This okay? I think I ordered half the menu, so there’s lots of variety. I’ll eat any of it, so you can just eat whatever you actually like.” Riggy is looking down at him, eyes so wide and sincere that Miro can feel his insides melting.

“Yeah of course, it’s awesome. I just wasn’t expecting you to get sushi. Uh, it’s one of my favorites, actually.”

“I know.” Riggy is smiling at him again, and suddenly Miro feels stripped bare, like if he keeps looking into those sincere, clear blue eyes, Riggy will be able to see right down to the core of him. Miro can’t let him see how much he’s falling for Riggy, how much he wants to be able to take that one step to close the distance between them, lean into the broad expanse of Riggy’s body, wrap his arms up around his neck, and draw him down until he can taste that smile against his own lips. He tears his eyes away and grabs the nearest to-go container of sushi, popping it open and studying the components.

“California roll?” He looks back up at Riggy, who is watching him with a look on his face that Miro can’t quite parse.

Riggy leans towards him, studying the rolls he’s holding and ‘hmm’-ing right in Miro’s ear, his body so close Miro can feel the heat of him.

“I think - ah here we go.” Riggy reaches past Miro to the table behind him, triumphantly holding up a little rectangle of paper, some squiggly writing visible on the front.

“Is there a number on that box?” 

Miro looks, and finding a tiny number “5” written in the corner of the top of the container, shows it to Riggy.

“Yep, that’s a california roll then.”

They figure out the rest of the containers, Miro teasing Riggy when he realizes just how much food he actually got just for the two of them, and Riggy protesting that he likes to have leftovers for at least one more meal if he’s going to all the trouble of picking up food from a restaurant.

“It really was nice of you to get this, Riggy.” Miro blushes a little as he hears how heartfelt he sounds. But Riggy just beams at him, giving him a little shove from his position further down Miro’s giant, oversized sofa.

“You’re welcome,” he manages to get out, mangled around a huge bite of food as he tries to give Miro a suggestive wink. “You can pay me back later,” he finishes after swallowing the mouthful of sushi, waggling his eyebrows.

Miro tries not to react to that idea, knowing Riggy is just messing with him. 

But, hmm, maybe Miro can flirt back, now that Riggy has opened that up. 

He looks up at Riggy through his lashes, knowing just how effective that is from what his couple of ex-boyfriends told him. 

“You sure you can handle this?”

Riggy is staring back at him, looking stunned. Miro throws in a slow little half smile for good measure, cocking his head to one side. Riggy’s eyes drop to his exposed neck, and he takes a quick breath in.

Just when Miro is worried he’s pushed it too far and Riggy is about to tell him to stop being weird or something, Riggy chuckles, low and deep, and reaches out to lightly run a fingertip along Miro’s neck, tracing down to his collarbone, and then withdrawing his hand. He winks at Miro again, and turns back to face the tv, where NHL 2021 is fired up and waiting for them.

Now it’s Miro’s turn to be stunned, and he blankly turns to face the tv as well, involuntarily reaching up to touch his neck, then quickly dropping his hand before Riggy notices. 

They play for hours, any of that strange new tension melting away as they both drop into the familiar rhythm of the videogame. They’d played a bit together online while Miro was back home, so it’s easy and quick to pick up where they left off. 

It’s fun. They tease each other, and stay pretty evenly matched, so they’re both pretty invested the whole time. Miro finally has to make them pause the game so he can turn on the lights and close the blinds when it starts getting dark outside.

Riggy stretches on the couch, his arms reaching overhead and giving a quick flash of pale skin as his sweatshirt rides up. Miro quickly averts his eyes, reaching for the controller to start them back up.

“Wait,” Riggy touches Miro’s hand with his fingertips, a quick press and then gone. Miro freezes, breathes, and then withdraws his hand from the controller. 

“What’s up?” He asks, hoping he doesn’t sound too breathy. His brain feels slow, although at the same time it has somehow gone from ‘this-is-awesome-friend-mode!’ to ‘oh-fuck-he-touched-me-yes-more-please’ in less than a second.

“Uh, maybe this is dumb, but can we watch a movie instead? I’m kinda tired. I mean, if you don’t and just want me to go home, which is totally cool if you do, just tell me and I’ll be outta your space.”

Miro does not want Riggy to leave. He doesn’t feel like he will ever get sick of hanging out with him. But he can’t exactly say that, not without possibly revealing a bit too much. 

“Movie sounds great. I’m actually kinda tired too, although I’m sure you are more tired, old man.” He catches the little throw pillow Riggy heaves towards his head in protest, laughing. “Hey! I know they’re _called_ throw pillows but…”

“Ugh, who thought it was a good idea to teach you English?” Riggy pouts in an exaggerated version of himself and widens his eyes at Miro, looking so ridiculous that Miro’s involuntary, surprised giggles continue for another minute, egged on by progressively ridiculous expressions from Riggy.

“Oh fuck, stop, ugh, ouch,” Miro finally gasps out, his arms wrapped around himself. “My ribs hurt.” He wipes away some tears from his eyes and mock-glares at Riggy, who draws an angel halo above his head with a finger, shrugging innocently back at him.

“Sounds like a you problem,” he says in a sing-song voice, reaching for the controller and neatly dodging the pillow that Miro had tried to throw back at him.

“Rude,” Miro huffs, but is secretly delighted. He could do this every night. Maybe Riggy will want to come over and chill more often? He glances sideways at him, watching his silhouette as he settles back against the couch pillows, making himself comfortable as he flips over to the apps on the console. 

“Hmm, Netflix? Hulu? Prime?” 

Miro turns his attention back to the tv, considering the options. They eventually settle on a film that neither of them have seen yet.

Miro pulls the little blanket he keeps on the back of the couch onto his lap about halfway through the movie. Jamie looks over at him, a faint smile on his lips as he asks, “Cold?”

Miro nods and smiles back at him, feeling content and relaxed and happy that Jamie is still there, on his couch, in his house. “A little.”

Jamie holds the eye contact, watching Miro like he’s looking for something, though Miro has no idea what. Then Jamie turns his body slightly towards Miro and lifts his arm, stretching it along the back of the couch.

“C’mere.” He says, gesturing with his head to indicate for Miro to come and - what? Snuggle? Shit. Miro wants to, of course he does, but is Jamie really offering? Maybe Miro is misunderstanding his meaning because he’s been feeling things towards Jamie lately that are definitely crossing the line out of ‘just bros’ territory.

Jamie pats his own side before stretching his arm out along the couch back again.

“My ex always used to call me a furnace. No use in you being cold way over there.”

Miro’s stomach flips at that. Jamie bringing up his ex makes Miro wonder if he is thinking how not just-friends this feels lately... Well, fuck it, he thinks, and scoots closer to Jamie. Nothing risked, nothing gained, after all.

Jamie waits for a moment, then slowly drops his arm and pulls Miro in the last half-inch or so until Miro is solidly pressed all along Jamie’s side. He reaches over and pulls the blanket up until it’s half-covering Miro. Then he lifts his arm back up to the top of the sofa and turns his attention back to the movie.

Miro has completely forgotten about the movie. Jamie was right, he is like a human furnace, and it’s amazing. Miro wants to burrow into his warmth, wants to wrap his arms around him and press kisses to his chest, his neck, his cheek. Instead, he tries to relax, consciously focusing on each tense muscle one-by-one, from his toes all the way up to his scalp, telling his aroused, alert body to chill.

When he wakes up he wakes up slowly, languidly. He’s warm, and it feels like there is an arm wrapped around him, holding him close to a big body. He feels safe, protected, and wanted. When he blinks his eyes open and finds Jamie’s face just inches from his own, he freezes in shock, and then remembers. They must have fallen asleep during the movie. Miro studies Jamie’s face, so peaceful in sleep, his breaths even and slow. Miro wants to snuggle back into his chest, go back to sleep, and just not care right now about what will probably be an awkward, uncomfortable morning. So that’s what he does. As Miro presses himself in close, Jamie murmurs into Miro’s hair and tightens his arm around Miro’s back before relaxing back into a peaceful rest again. Miro smiles against Jamie’s chest, allowing himself one brief press of his lips against Jamie’s t-shirt before he feels sleep creeping up to overtake him again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops this is going to be a little longer than I thought... Thanks for reading! Sorry it’s not beta’ed, and not the best quality honestly, I know. Mostly sharing it because there’s not hardly anything in this pairing and I just have so many feels about them <3
> 
> Please note I added a LOT of trigger warnings for this chapter. See note at bottom for a full description.

When Miro wakes up again it’s to his daily alarm beeping steadily at him from the coffee table. He rolls towards the noise blindly, feeling around until he finds the nuisance and jabbing at the snooze button so he can sleep for five more minutes. As he catches sight of the screen though he sees there is a text notification sitting there, and thumbs it open. 

It’s from Riggy, and suddenly Miro feels wide awake as he remembers last night - oh gods he snuggled Riggy and then fell asleep half on top of him, what the hell was he thinking? Riggy must’ve left and wrapped this second huge blanket around Miro at some point, which is actually so sweet of him to have let Miro sleep and made sure he was warm. So he probably can’t be too mad at Miro. But why then did he leave at all?

_Riggy, 7:30 am: hey there sunshine, you’re still sleeping I didn’t want to wake you. Went home to get changed, check your email from Bones :/_

Miro frowns and quickly finds the email Riggy must be talking about. As he skims over the contents, the meaning seeps into his barely-awake brain like a shot of caffeine. He drops his phone with a clatter onto the coffee table. 

After staring at the blank ceiling doesn’t suddenly cause him to snap out of this bad dream, he grabs at his phone again.

 _Shit,_ he texts to Riggy. _Well we were definitely exposed to most of those guys that tested positive_

_Riggy, 8:06am: yeah I kno. We gotta go get tested again today, want a ride?_

Miro frowns. Obviously they’d spent a ton of time together in practice and since leaving the rink, and if one of them was exposed at practice they were probably both exposed. But he still feels like they should probably not show up to get tested together- what if one of them is positive and the other isn’t? It would be weird but how does he know, it could happen.

 _I think we shouldnt carpool til we get tested, just in case,_ he texts Riggy, feeling like an asshole and not even really understanding why. He just hopes Riggy doesn’t think he’s rejecting him. This whole pandemic is just so, so shitty and he doesn’t really know how to handle it all.

_Riggy, 8:11am: Yeah you’re right, totally. Lmk how it goes. Imma check in on a couple of the guys but I’ll just call them and see if they need me to like drop stuff at their door or anything_

_Aww, that’s thoughtful of you :)_ Miro texts back, grinning to himself at the image of Riggy dropping off little care baskets all tied up with ribbons and a ‘get well soon buddy!’ card at the doors of their sick teammates. In reality it’d probably be more like a pack of room-temperature pedialyte but hey, it’s the thought that counts.

He busies himself getting breakfast together and downs some coffee, before hopping in the shower and then dressing in his off-day casual attire to head over to the rink. He heads out to his neglected car and spends a quick minute missing Riggy’s familiar warmth and quiet conversation before he shakes himself out of it. No need for that, he tells himself sternly. It’s only on a brief pause, this doesn’t mean Riggy will never again pick him up so they can head to the rink together.

When he arrives he waves to a few of the guys who are standing next to their vehicles, talking loudly to each other from over six feet away and through masks. They wave back, but don’t try to make him come over as he heads towards the entrance the team uses for testing and medical screening prior to entering the rest of the building.

As he waits in the little holding room for the test results, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. Pulling it out he sees a missed call from Riggy. He shoots him a quick text, _hey, am in the testing waiting room, what’s up man?_

_Riggy, 9:25am: oh cool, I just parked actually and see your car now. Was just wondering if you’d already gotten your results earlier_

_Should know in a sec,_ Miro sends, seeing the nurse coming down the hall towards him.

“Mr. Heiskanen?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Please follow me.”

He frowns a little to himself as he follows her. This is different, usually they just tell him he’s tested negative and let him leave the holding area.

They reach an exam room and one of the team doctors, a newer guy that has been brought on mainly to help with the testing protocol, ushers him in, nodding to the nurse who smiles and closes the door as she leaves.

“Miro, please have a seat.”

Miro sits, his legs feeling a bit weak suddenly. 

“Well son there’s no easy way to break this to you, so I’ll just be frank. You’ve tested positive for COVID-19. You’ll need to quarantine yourself but if you continue to be asymptomatic you’ll have to have three consecutive negative tests before you can come out of quarantine. We’ll need you to monitor yourself closely and keep us informed if you develop any symptoms. I’ll give you a bit of information, here you go, now let’s go over what you might experience…”

Miro walks out of the testing area feeling a bit dazed. He hadn’t realized how blithely he’d assumed that he wouldn’t actually catch the virus. They’d been so sheltered in the bubble, and then Finland had so few cases while he was home, and only a couple of guys on the team have gotten sick at all. 

But, now here he is. And hopefully he’ll end up with no or just really mild symptoms. And he knows he luckily has access to awesome medical care if he needs it. But, he won’t be able to play hockey for now. They have such a short training camp already. And what if he actually gets sick? How long could it keep him from playing?

Miro is so intent on his thoughts that it takes him a few seconds to realize someone is calling his name. He glances around and sees Riggy, standing next to his SUV and looking concerned.

“You ok?” Riggy took a step towards him, but Miro quickly shakes his head. Riggy stays where he is.

“I tested positive too. They told me to quarantine.”

“Ah no way! Well damn. I bet I have it too then. You feel ok though?”

“So far, yeah. But I was really tired last night you know? And I already feel like I could go home and nap so, I don’t know. Might just be stress from hearing about all this. Guess I’ll have to see how it goes.”

Jamie scratches at his beard, as he often does when he’s bouncing an idea around in his head, but isn’t sure how to say it.

“Spit it out Riggy.”

“Ugh yeah okay. It’s just, if I test positive too, there’s no reason we can’t just quarantine together right?” Riggy must see the skepticism in Miro’s eyes because he rushes on, “we can keep each other from going stir crazy, and if we actually get sick we can like help each other and keep an eye on each other…”

Miro sees a tiny bit of worry pass through Riggy’s face, there and then gone in an instant as Riggy clearly tries to look convincing but not overly concerned about Miro’s answer. Suddenly Miro remembers that Riggy is really close friends with Johnsy, who is out again this season with continuing post traumatic headaches. Miro wasn’t around for all of it, but he remembers overhearing Johnsy complaining once that Riggy constantly mother-henned him and Riggy snapping back that he wouldn’t have to if Johns had just f-ing told him he needed help in the first place. 

Riggy had immediately apologized for saying that, making sure Johnsy knew how proud he is of him for reaching out at all, and they’d bickered some more before seeming to work it out. But Miro knew from a couple things the other guys had said, just how scary it had been for all of them when they’d realized how close Johnsy had been to spiraling into a really dark place, a dangerous mindset that was a vicious cycle with the isolation brought on by his injury. He almost hadn’t made it out. And Miro knows that Riggy is haunted even now by the knowledge that he didn’t know what Johnsy was going through until it was almost too late.

So Miro looks into Riggy’s eyes and gives a little smile. 

“Yeah, ok.”

“Really??”

“Yes, you big lug,” Miro rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh at the almost comical mix of relief and indignation on Riggy’s face. He points towards the building. “Now go get tested and call me when you’re done.”

Riggy tosses a mock salute at him, a habit they’ve all picked up from Gury, and marches off towards the door. Miro watches him go for a moment, feeling a bit overwhelmed with fondness for the slightly overprotective sap. He means well, and that’s what matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs:
> 
> Implied suicidal ideation. Isolation/depression. Lots of COVID-19 references. Some characters being casual about the risks of the pandemic. Players actually getting COVID. Players quarantining due to COVID. The inherent and unacknowledged privilege of being a pro male athlete in a pandemic.


	4. Chapter 4

Ty watches until Miro gets to his car and closes the door behind him before he turns back to Gury and Roope in mild disbelief.

“Ok how long has that fuckin’ soap opera been going on?”

Gury and Roope make eye contact and have some sort of weird silent argument with their eyebrows, before Roope shakes his head and turns back to Ty.

“Forever? I don’t know. I guess I’m an idiot but I didn’t realize until the bubble that Miro was like, gone on Riggy.”

“You didn’t even realize about me until the bubble Hinee so that’s not saying much!” Gury rolls his eyes at Roope, trying not to smile.

“Fuck you, you had a girlfriend!”

“So did you! Well, I mean, we both still do.”

Roope blushes at that and glances quickly at Ty, who tries to look like it still doesn’t faze him one bit, the casual little fact that oh, yeah, Roope, Gury, and both of their girlfriends are in one big four-way relationship now.

Gury smirks at Roope and then turns to Ty. “I figured it out the first time I saw the two of them trying not to stare at each other in the locker room, when Rig got traded back to Dallas.”

“Huh.” Ty stares bemusedly at Gury, and then scratches his chin under the edge of his mask before tugging it back into place. “Well I must be oblivious too because I never noticed it in the bubble.”

“Ugh, no it’s not surprising you didn’t, they were so damn awkward in the bubble. Like way too polite to each other, avoided looking at each other as much as possible because someone made fun of them for it.” Gury stares pointedly at Roope, who blushes furiously.

“I thought I was fucking helping! It’s not my fault they’re damn shy awkward idiots who don’t know how to flirt.”

“Oh and you do?”

“I have game! You fucking like it, don’t front.”

This time Gury’s cheeks go a little pink and he looks away, saying something low that Ty can’t quite catch. 

Ty glances back at Roope, who has a hungry look in his eyes as he watches Gury. Ty clears his throat, and they both start a little and look back at him guiltily.

“Anyways, what are we going to do about them?” Ty looks from one to the other pair of blinking startled eyes looking at him. “Clearly they need real help if this has been going on that long. It’s fucking painful to watch.”

“I think Miro would legit attack me with his hockey stick if I tried to ‘help’ again, Delly. You didn’t see what happened, I thought they were both going to burst in flames when I suggested they get a room and not come back until they could stop eye-fucking in front of the whole team.”

“That’s what you did?” Ty nearly shrieks, his voice rising alarmingly high before he can stop it.

“Ow,” Roope rubs at his ears, Gury wincing in agreement, both staring at Ty.

“Sorry, jesus, just - oh my gawd, what did you think that would do _other_ than make everything horribly awkward?”

“I don’t know, dude, it’s basically the same thing I said to Gury and he-”

“No!” Ty yells, cutting off that sentence before it was too late. “Please don’t tell me the details, oh, my _gawd_.”

“Fine, then, what’s your genius plan if you know so much better?”

Ty smiles, looking first at Roope, then at Gury. “Oh, I have a plan. And it’s going to work. But I’ll need both of you to help me…”

*************

Miro gets home and is letting himself in the front door of his apartment when his phone chimes softly. 

_Riggy,_ _9:58am: Yep I got it too_

_Riggy, 9:58am: Your couch still open?_

Miro’s fingers itch to type back something about his bed being open too, but he makes himself pull his mind away from that thought and tells Riggy _yes, of course, you’re welcome for as long as you want to stay man_

Riggy texts him back a long string of smileys, sick emojis, clothes emojis, and little suitcases and car emojis. Miro takes this to mean that he’s going home to pack a bag and will be over later.

He flops down on his couch, snuggling back into the cocoon of blankets he’d left in a heap from last night. He flips on the television, idly flipping through channels until settling on a random basketball game replay. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he’d told Riggy he was still feeling more tired than normal. He’ll just close his eyes for a minute...


	5. Chapter 5

The first day they’re allowed back on the ice feels surreal. Miro has never spent so long not skating in his life - since he was two years old he’s skated at least once a week, if not a lot more.

He can tell Riggy feels just as weird about it as he does. They run a few warm-up drills together and then fall in with the rest of the group, fending off a few friendly pucks fired in their direction from Klinger and Esa.

“Fuck, I’m so glad you guys are back, they keep making me go against Gury and Roope and I hate being embarrassed like that.” Sekera mutters to them as they join him at the back of the defense huddle a few minutes later.

Riggy chuckles. “I can’t keep up with those fuckers either, Miro just makes us both look good.”

Sekera nods, turning his attention to the whiteboard as Coach starts drawing.

Miro can feel his face burning and he studies the ice at his feet, hiding his cheeks behind his gloved hands propped on his stick. It just feels like so much when Riggy says those things about him. He’s so matter-of-fact, and maybe it shouldn’t affect Miro so much, but it just... does.

Riggy bumps his shoulder into Miro companionably, and Miro glances quickly at him, a little startled. Riggy’s pretty focused at practice, not usually distracted when they’re studying plays or running drills. But Riggy just gives him a little half smile and turns his attention back to the play on the board.

It makes Miro feel all warm and kinda jittery, but he tamps it down and makes himself focus on studying the drill.

As soon as they break, Riggy skates over to the opposite boards to line up for the next drill, and Miro notices that Delly immediately flags him down and gets in his space like he does, jabbering away and gesturing all over with his hands. Riggy gets the indulgent smile on his face that he always does with the rookies this year, and Miro turns away. It’s absolutely crazy to be jealous. He’s had Riggy all to himself for over a week. He’s literally had him in his bed every night. Even if they didn’t like, do anything other than sleep. Not that he’s disappointed. He’s just feeling weirdly possessive now that they don’t have to quarantine together. Riggy is going to go back to his own house today, his own bed, and not be everywhere Miro turns. Making Miro coffee and pancakes in the morning. Giggling his head off when Miro loses in ‘chel and pouts because he’s an awful sore loser and usually wins. Harassing Miro about his all-black wardrobe and stark white and black decor. He’d actually made Miro order a bunch of plants to be delivered from some tiny local plant place he loves, after complaining half the first day that he was going to go crazy if there wasn’t anything else alive or even colorful in the house other than them. Well, other than Riggy, since apparently Miro didn’t count with his black-on-black taste in clothing.

Miro grins to himself, and glances back over at Riggy, then frowns a little when he sees how close Delly still is. Is he - leaning against Riggy? What the hell? Suddenly Riggy laughs and pushes Delly away, nearly knocking him to the ice just due to the size difference. Delly staggers dramatically but recovers, smacking Riggy in the shins with his stick and finally skating to the back of the line where he belongs. Miro tries to tone down the slightly nasty edge to his thoughts. He’s probably imagining it due to his weird mood but he could swear that Delly glances right at him and gives him a little smirk before striking up a conversation with Cammy.

**************

Miro manages to tune out his jealous thoughts all the rest of practice and is feeling pretty good, getting out of his gear back in the dressing room, listening to the background chatter of his team, Finnish and English and Russian all mingling together, nothing really standing out. Until a sudden, low whistle cuts through the rest of the noise, followed by a yelled “Damn, Riggy! We forgot what you were hiding under there! Put it away before you scare the rookies!”

Miro glances, startled, to his left where Riggy always sits, but all he sees is a retreating back, Riggy stripped down to his tiny under armor shorts and flipping them all off over his back as he heads to the showers.

Miro glances back at the room, and catches Delly staring at him. Delly waggles his eyebrows and winks obnoxiously before turning back to his conversation with Otter.

There’s no reason to feel so cranky just from that, really, but Miro wants to throw his tape ball at Delly’s head. He restrains himself, going back to methodically unwinding the clear tape from around his shins, trying to allow the routine to soothe his nerves and empty his mind as it usually does. It is a lot harder today than it usually is. His mind keeps drifting to thoughts of Riggy in the shower, right now, naked… water dripping off his hair like it had in the mornings after he’d worked out in Miro’s home gym, coming into the kitchen for a big glass of water, fresh from Miro’s shower, looking content and settled and just so, _good_ , like he just _belonged_ there in Miro’s house.

Fuck, Miro really needs to stop thinking like that at the rink. It’s probably just the fact that he hasn’t had a really good jerk-off session for over a week. He’s been too embarrassed to spend an obvious amount of time in the shower, worried that Riggy would overhear him if he let himself get really into it and accidentally made any noise. So it’s just been rushed, only half-satisfying orgasms just to take the edge off of constant exposure to so much Riggy.

There’s just… so much of him. Miro’d woken up more than once to Riggy splayed across two-thirds of the bed, an arm thrown across Miro’s chest, a heavy calf pressing his leg into the mattress. It was crazy how like, dense and heavy Rig’s limbs are. It made Miro’s mind wander into dangerous territory thinking about all that muscle, what it would be like if Riggy really decided to use his strength to hold Miro down on the bed… and at that point he usually squirmed out from under Rig’s grasp and took care of his morning wood in the shower.

Rig always slept in longer than Miro. He seemed to need a regular nine or even more hours, whereas Miro had spent most of his life existing happily on about seven. It was a weird thing to adjust to at first, but after a couple of days Miro was ridiculously grateful for the couple hours of solitude in the morning. He was really pretty introverted by nature, and as much as he loved having Riggy there, he did really need his alone time too. It was a good balance. Riggy was content most of the time to just hang out pretty quietly in the same space, whether they were watching something on Miro’s tv or playing video games, or doing their own thing, like talking with a teammate/family member, or reading (Riggy) or just zoning out at the ceiling (Miro). They worked out every day, other than the couple of days that Miro had some mild symptoms and decided to take it easy. They took turns cooking for each other when they didn’t order in, and had even had a few long conversations that had surprised Miro with how easy it was to let his guard down and talk about anything and everything with Riggy. That had happened the first night Riggy had stayed, and before either of them had realized it, it was past midnight and they were both about ready to pass out on the couch. 

“I’ll just brush my teeth in the morning,” Riggy had whined, half-jokingly at Miro when he’d announced the time and told Riggy he could use the bathroom first. Miro had rolled his eyes and poked him in the side with his toe until Riggy had grabbed at his foot, running his hand up to wrap his fingers all the way around Miro’s ankle (Miro tried not to think too hard about how long Riggy’s fingers were) and groused, “fine, fine stop abusing me with your pointy toes, jeez.”

Miro had laid on the couch with his eyes closed until he heard Riggy’s footsteps again.

“You can’t sleep here.” He’d announced, watching Riggy lean his huge frame over the couch to grab his phone off the coffee table, propping one hand on Miro’s calf to help him balance as he stood back up straight.

“Huh?” Riggy looked deeply confused, and a little flash of hurt came into his eyes before Miro realized his mistake.

“Not like that, I meant you can’t sleep _here,_ on my couch. It’s too small for you. I’ll sleep here, you can take my bed.” Miro blushed slightly thinking about how they’d both slept (snuggled, whispers his traitorous mind) on this couch just the day before. But that had been purely an accident, and not actually that great for either of their backs.

Riggy was already shaking his head, his mouth set in that stubborn line that Miro was now used to seeing across the ice whenever they were down a goal and the other team was coming hard at them. “Uh-uh bud, I can sleep here. I’ve crashed on plenty smaller couches before, and I’m not stealing your bed. Especially if you’re starting to feel sick.”

Miro had complained earlier that he was feeling kinda achy, more than was warranted for the work they’d been doing at practice and prescribed workouts. Riggy had immediately googled Covid symptoms and informed him that that was often the first one, and made him take his temperature, which was, fortunately, perfectly normal. Miro wasn’t convinced that it was from the virus, but he did feel particularly reluctant to peel himself up off the couch now, and wondered if the exhaustion could actually be a symptom too.

“Well, I’m not going to sleep in my bed that is way big enough for the two of us and just leave you out here. Besides, you might be getting sick too. We’ll both be way more comfortable, especially since we’re gonna be stuck here for who-knows-how-long exactly. Just don’t take the right side, ‘k?”

Riggy looked conflicted for a minute, scratching at his beard and looking down at Miro, then nodded. “Okay man, I guess that does make sense since I’m crashing here for a while. You sure you’re really okay with this? I mean, I know I kinda invited myself…”

“Yeah, Riggy, I’m happy you’re here.” Miro smiled up at him, and Rig’s worried expression relaxed, his soft smile doing sappy things to Miro’s insides. 

Miro hauled himself off the couch, groaning as the blood rushed from his head and he felt a little light-headed. He must’ve swayed on his feet, because the next thing he knew Riggy had both of his upper arms grasped firmly and a new worried look on his face.

“Miro? What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing, I’m fine.” Miro shook his head, straightening up. He felt back to normal now. “Just stood up too fast. Probably dehydrated.” He tried to look reassuring, and it must’ve mostly worked because Riggy slowly released him and stepped back. He still looked a little worried though.

They’d gone to bed that night facing away from each other at opposite sides of the bed, and when Miro had opened his eyes in the morning to find he was half-curled into the limbs starfishing out towards him, he’d realized the next however many days would be a special kind of torture, trying not to let his body betray just how much he wanted Riggy to touch him.

“Hey Miro!” A startlingly close shout snaps Miro out of his reverie, and he looks up to see Delly grinning toothily down at him. No one else is left in the dressing room. “You need help with your clothes buddy?” 

“What? No!” Miro can hear how scandalized his own voice sounds and tries to turn it into a chirp. “Shut up Delly, you only wish I wanted your help.”

“Maybe _you_ don’t want my help but…” Delly raises his eyebrows mysteriously as he backs away, holding Miro’s eye contact and then glancing to Miro’s left, where Riggy’s stall is sitting empty. Miro doesn’t really think he is trying to insinuate what Miro’s mind immediately jumps to, and before he can think of anything to say Delly is gone, cackling and vanishing with his backpack through the door to the hallway.

Miro drives alone back to his place for the first time in a long time that afternoon, missing Riggy as soon as he walks in the door, immediately thinking of him when he sees the giant plant that now sits in his foyer. He keeps flashing back to what Delly said in the dressing room, how he’d been all over Riggy at practice that day. Miro's been pretty sure that Delly plays for the same team ever since he noticed him covertly checking out Otter’s ass during his stretching routine practically every day in the bubble. In fact, Miro had been pretty sure those two would have a thing going by now. So why the hell is Delly now, like, _flirting_ with _his_ defense partner?

Miro sighs in defeat, rubbing his forehead, and dials Roope’s number. He knows when he is out of his element, and now is apparently one of those times when he just needs to swallow his pride and ask for help.

“Yo, Miro, what’s good?” Roope’s face fills the little screen, obnoxiously too close, until he steps back from his phone and then Miro can see that he’s in his kitchen, a bunch of sandwich toppings laid out on the counter next to him.

“Is the rookie hitting on Riggy?” 

Roope snorts, pushing his hair out of his eyes and glancing at Miro while he chops. “Which one man? There’s so many?”

“C’mon you know what I’m talking about. You’re less blind about this stuff than I am.”

“Yeah but I’m also not as aware of every little thing to do with Riggy as you are, bud.”

“Fuck you’re the worst, forget I asked-”

“Naw, it’s cool man, I’m just ribbing you. Yeah, I noticed, and I dunno, I think Delly’s just having fun with Riggy. Trying to see how far he can push him before he snaps or something. But it does kinda look like flirting I guess? Huh.” Roope looks weirdly shifty for a second, then grins at Miro. “Guess you’ll have to do something ‘bout it before Delly takes your man!”

“Shut. the. Fuck. up. Ugh, why are you like this?” Miro can feel his face blazing, and pushes his phone down from where it’s propped on his table, letting it slide flat until all Roope can see is the white of Miro’s ceiling. Miro rests his forehead on his hands.

“Aw c’mon Miro let me see your pretty face! You know that Riggy loves you man, I think you should just talk to him. ‘Cuz watching you simp after him all the time is getting old for me and Gury. Like, you’re supposed to be the mature one in this friendship, and yet it’s me that’s got his shit together first?”

“Really?!” Miro grabs the phone, angling it to stare at Roope, grateful for the opening to change the focus off his own problems. “You finally got your shit together? What the fuck? When? What the hell happened?”

When they finally have to get off the phone so they can both get afternoon naps, Miro has almost forgotten about his own concerns. But one look at his huge, too-empty bed reminds him right away. He sighs and strips down, burrowing under the covers and trying not to miss the familiar warmth of a big body next to his.


End file.
